


One Heart

by Ebyru



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Top is a rich business man with everything. GD is a poor country boy who needs a heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Genre: AU, a bit of everything.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I wish I did.
> 
> Notes: Prompted and betad by midorihaven @ lj ♥.

**One Heart**

Seunghyun fixes his shirt cuffs, glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time; it wasn’t like her to be late. His fingers tap against the mahogany table, his legs crossed and restless underneath it. The waiter stops in front of him, asking to remove the extra chair. Seunghyun was polite at first, but now he’s speaking through clenched teeth, “No you cannot. Stop asking.” The startled man shuffles off into the kitchen.

Seunghyun sighs loudly, couples looking over from their tables and then away when he narrows his eyes at them. He looks at his watch once more, denying the fact that his girlfriend was almost 30 minutes late. Undoing his tie and opening a few of his top buttons, he stretches out under the table. If she was going to be this late, he would need to cool down before her arrival.

Seunghyun huffs, crossing his arms and staring at the clock of his cellphone placed beside silverware. The waiter returns, bottle of wine in one hand, towel in the other. “Can I offer you a glass while you wait, sir?” Seunghyun nods, gesturing for him to go ahead, not taking his eyes away from his cellphone. The waiter forces a smile, pouring the red liquid into the glass, putting it down on the table gently. Seunghyun takes the glass between his middle fingers, parting his lips slightly to sip it, as his phone vibrates against the table. He picks up frantically, spilling his glass of wine on the table.

“Where are you!?” Seunghyun shouts, disturbing the other couples’ evening.

“Sir, your girlfriend has been in an accident ---“

Seunghyun slides his phone into his jacket, bolting up from his seat and rushing out the front door.

\--------------------------------------------------

Jiyong kisses his mother on both cheeks, pulling her into a warm hug. She smiles, sighing and fixing his shirt collar. He chuckles a bit, whispering for her to tell dad about why he’s gone. She nods, pushing him out the door a bit rougher than she means to. If she didn’t do it this way she’d never let him go. 

He smiles, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a good job and help you pay for the house!” Jiyong waves, running to catch his bus into the city. 

It’ll be hard to leave his hometown, but he knows it’s for the best. The medical coverage and services were much better in Seoul. His heart wasn’t going to last much longer without it.

His mother closes the door when she sees him get on the bus, leaning her back against the frame. There’s a picture of Jiyong hanging on the wall, she runs her fingers over it pensively. He hasn’t changed much in the past years. His hair is still long and brown, he still wears multicolored bandannas, still has his huge smile and the same brooding eyes that contradict his smile. She knows that Jiyong needs that transplant soon; the doctors predicted that he would have heart failure within the next year.

\--------------------------------------

Seunghyun pants when he reaches the reception of the hospital. He asks for his girlfriend’s room number and the secretary shies away, avoiding his gaze. “Where is she?” Seunghyun says louder.

“Go down the hall to your left, intensive care.” The woman points, still incapable of looking him directly in the eyes, as she finishes giving him directions.

Seunghyun rushes down the hall, brushing past a slender man with brown hair on the way, knocking his papers out of his hands accidentally. Jiyong grumbles, watching the man continue to run through the corridor without even trying to apologize.

Seunghyun stops in his tracks when he finds her room, his hand shaking as it covers his mouth. He walks over to—what he believes—is his girlfriend, or what’s left of her. He looks at the hospital bracelet on her wrist, noticing the name and dropping to his knees. This broken person is her—the only woman he’s ever loved.

He fights back his tears, his breath coming out in gasps, kissing her hand softly. A doctor with a clipboard comes in, fixing his frames, not to startle the young man, before he interrupts by clearing his throat. “I’m sorry to bother you at such a time.”

Seunghyun puts her hand back on her stomach, getting off the ground and wiping his eyes quickly. “How is she?”

“I’m sorry,” The doctor sighs, his shoulders drooping. “There’s nothing we can do. There’s too much blood in her lungs.”

Seunghyun cringes, his muscles tensing up throughout his body. He knew it was serious, but he never thought he’d be saying goodbye to this woman—who looked nothing like his girlfriend---while she was on life support. 

His head starts spinning and he feels like he might throw up or fall down again. The doctor’s still talking, but Seunghyun can’t hear anything except a buzzing noise and her voice ringing in his ears. At some point, the doctor’s hand is on his shoulder, trying to console him. But now he can’t see the doctor in front of him either. And at that moment, Seunghyun feels his whole body shut down and the lights in the room fade to black.

\--------------------------------------------

Jiyong sighs, fixing his dark hoodie and tapping his pack of papers against the corner of the receptionist’s desk. “Miss, I was told to give these to you. It’s my application for a heart transplant.”

She nods, taking the forms and stapling them as the other hand reaches to answer the incessant phone. She moves the receiver away from her mouth, “Please sit down, you’ll have some tests to go through.” 

Jiyong blinks, falling onto the plastic waiting room chair. He sighs, fixing his thin bandanna and crossing his legs. He waits, watches, thinks. The receptionist’s shift is over, and yet, he’s still waiting. Ambulances pass through quickly, sometimes with minor injuries, sometimes with crying families. Doctors call out names of patients. Jiyong sits up when he sees them, slumping back down when they call for someone else. He eventually falls asleep, his eyes too heavy to stay open.

There’s a voice whispering, telling him to wake up, but the fish in his pond still haven’t been caught. Can’t he just stay in dreamland a little longer? The hand shakes his shoulder gently, his eyes cracking open and glaring at the sunlight slipping in through the open blinds

“Kwon Jiyong? The doctor will see you now.” It’s the same receptionist from a few hours ago.

He sits up, pulling on his hood to hide from the dreaded sunlight. It was too early for him to be awake and have to deal with that. Jiyong looks for the number of the room, forcing his eyes to focus when he can’t even remember what he was waiting for to begin with.  _Oh yeah_ , he sighs,  _a heart_  and then he’s wide awake.

The room is empty when he gets in, save for a bed and some basic medical equipment. A door he hadn’t even noticed opens, and an exhausted doctor appears with a clipboard in hand. “How are you today?”

“Fine, I guess.” Jiyong yawns, swinging his feet off the hospital bed.

“Well, I have good news and bad news.” But the doctor’s smile seems a bit misleading.

“Bad news? Whatever.” Jiyong creases his brow. Did this mean he was going to die?

The doctor’s smile grows. “Actually I’ll tell you it all together.” The doctor double checks his clipboard, leaning it against his chest when he’s done. “We have a heart for you, but you need to go into surgery now. We won’t have time to do all the tests.”

Jiyong doesn’t know if he should laugh, cry, or scream. He resorts to jumping on the doctor and hanging from his neck, his eyes filling with tears. The doctor seems touched, patting Jiyong on the back. “Let’s get you changed.”

\----------------------------------------

All he can think about is  _her_. She was the cautious one, the grounded one, the one who always wanted things to be fair. Seunghyun curses under his breath, slamming down a bottle of beer. This wasn’t  _fair_ , not to him, and least of all to her.

Warm tears slide down his cheeks but he doesn’t even bother wiping them anymore. Soju is starting to taste like water (or piss), he notes, guzzling down the rest of the bottle and breaking it against his table. The last sip is saltier, maybe because of the tears he refuses to acknowledge, but he continues to drink blindly.

He cracks open another bottle, slouching in his leather sofa that she picked out, trying to remember the details of her face, her voice, her habits---everything. If he forgets, he’s lost her completely and that would mean the end.

If life was going to treat the good people like that, then he was going to do it as well. Being nice never landed him a job, never let him get ahead, never made girls like him. And life definitely didn’t care about morals and caution---death even less. If there’s one thing he learned it was: no matter how good and pure you are, someone stupid and careless can come along, stealing your hopes and dreams in a few seconds. 

What was the point?

\---------------------------------------------

Jiyong is aching. Everything feels numb and pulling, and as much as he’d like to turn over, the bed is too small. He sighs, his eyes still closed, frowning with the tight feeling in his chest. This is him on strong painkillers, he couldn’t imagine without. He gets comfortable and decides to go back to sleep----there’s not much else he can do.

He thinks he’s dreaming, but he’s not completely sure. He figures, since his body doesn’t hurt and he’s able to walk around, it can’t be real. But the man in front of him looks so real, and only slightly familiar.

His hair is dark and shining below the miniature chandelier in the apartment. Jiyong doesn’t recognize the place more than the man, but it feels cozy. The stranger, clearly a businessman by his designer suit and watch, leans in and kisses Jiyong. It’s soft and thorough, almost uncharacteristically so, even though Jiyong doesn’t know him. 

The man smiles, his eyes as dark as ebony and intense, sliding his fingers through long hair. He leans in, pressing his forehead to Jiyong’s and whispering: “Why would you give your heart away? It belongs to me.” There’s laughter, and it doesn’t sound like Jiyong’s voice. But it feels like he’s been there before, like he can almost remember if he just pays closer attention.

“Good morning!” A nurse puts a plate down on Jiyong’s tray, sliding it over his bed.

Jiyong’s eyes snap open as he sits up in his bed abruptly.  _Too fast_ , he groans. It hurts, worse than before, the feeling of his limbs being pulled apart back again. Maybe it would have been better to just die--he thinks for a second--but decides to throw away that thought.

\-------------------------------------------------

Seunghyun cracks his knuckles looking at the letter from his newest intern. It’s amusing how they can’t seem to last his  _boot camp_. His own boss is much harder on him, but you don’t see him complaining and leaving hate letters. Seunghyun smirks, cynical thoughts swirling through his mind as he reads it aloud.

 _Dear Choi Seunghyun,_

 _Go fuck yourself! No one deserves to be treated like this!  
I’m not some lab rat you can push to the limit just for your own entertainment.  
I shouldn’t have to sleep in the office because you don’t like working alone and not get paid for the overtime! I hope you die a horrible death!_

He has already died. This Seunghyun is a different one. Reborn with horns and thick skin, flames surround him and he keeps nothing but victory in his mind to drive him. Love and compassion are a thing of the past, he mumbles, dialing the number of his secretary.

“Get me another intern, now!” Seunghyun hangs up, taking a cigar from his drawer and lighting it. 

\----------------------------------------------

Jiyong wakes--able to sit up in his bed—and eats the horrid hospital food. He’s not sure what it is, but the colors are nice so he forces the substance down his throat. If he doesn’t eat, the nurse will spoon-feed him; she already threatened to a few days ago.

His stomach is full. Full of what, he’d rather not know, but full nonetheless. His eyelids feel heavy as he lies back against his pillow. At the rate he’s drifting into slumber, he’s skeptical as to what the nurse slipped in the lunch. (Or, possibly, this is what it felt like to have a full stomach?)

The man is back, he notices right away, their fingers intertwining. A voice, the same voice that answers the man constantly, whispers the stranger’s name lovingly:  _Seunghyun_. The name suits him, he thinks, elegant and serious. They continue walking down the beach hand in hand, smiles almost too big to be real. Jiyong watches like Seunghyun is distant and close at once, like he can almost touch his heart if he reaches for it. 

Jiyong isn’t someone who likes labels, nor does he label people, but he never thought he’d be falling for a man in his dreams. It isn’t only the fact that Seunghyun is a man, because he’s seen how wonderful and gorgeous he can be, but rather that he lives only in his dreams. And dreams are often misleading, especially with matters of the heart.

His stomach growls and Jiyong is forced out of sleep--again--his abdomen rumbling like a storm. There’s a fresh tray of colorful mash in front of him, no thanks to the nurse. It’s already night time; he realizes when the usual ray of sunshine isn’t driving him insane. He smiles, fork swirling in the mystery food. Though he knows it’s wrong on so many levels, he can’t wait to fall back asleep and see Seunghyun. He scrambles to eat whatever’s on his plate, forcing it down with some water and curling up against his pillow.

\-----------------------------------------

Seunghyun rolls his eyes. It’s obvious the new guy doesn’t take him seriously when he says he knows his coffee. The guy was probably late so he rushed into whichever coffee shop was nearby and kept a spare cup from the real place, pouring this cheap  _shit_  in it and passing it off as the good stuff.

“Intern,” For this, Seunghyun decides, he won’t have a name today. “Get me the coffee I like.”

The man stands in front of him for a long moment, confused and insulted, not sure which emotion is leading. Seunghyun looks up at him, widening his eyes to press the matter, finger tapping against his watch.

The man takes the coffee from Seunghyun’s desk, rushing out the door and closing it behind him softly. He’s aware that his coworkers were betting on how long this intern would last. But they didn’t know that he was in on it, as well. The record for the last 20 people who came in and out is _two weeks_. And she was the only woman.

Seunghyun chuckles at the thought. Too bad it took a woman to have some balls.

\------------------------------------------

Jiyong doesn’t even know how to swim, but he can when he’s with Seunghyun. They have a beautiful outdoor pool and Seunghyun is at ease as he swims around in it. Jiyong watches from the side, his feet swinging in the water. 

Seunghyun dives under water, popping out in front of Jiyong, looking more gorgeous than usual. His hair is slicked back and dripping onto the golden skin of his chest and arms. He flexes his muscles playfully, his smile brighter than the sun beaming above.

This is heaven to Jiyong. And he wouldn’t care if he stayed in this fantasy world forever, as long as Seunghyun would be there with him. Jiyong doesn’t need to wake up, doesn’t want to---so long as Seunghyun stays by his side. 

But his chest tenses when he coughs, and suddenly there’s a light shining in his eyes. A doctor is yelling above him, but all he can hear is Seunghyun’s laugh and all he needs is to get closer, to _actually_  touch him. He realizes it’s time to wake up when the voice shouting over Seunghyun’s is frantic and shaking him more violently.

A doctor finally pulls him out of his dream. “Jiyong, I need you awake.”

Jiyong pushes himself up with his elbows, blinking away the sleep. “Yes, I’m up. What’s wrong?”

“If you’re getting a cold, it might be your body rejecting the heart.” The doctor places his stethoscope to Jiyong’s chest. 

He hisses, the cold metal too much of a contrast for his warm skin. The doctor listens, asking Jiyong to breathe in and out heavily. He takes a pen and scribbles something on a pad. Jiyong tries to read it, expecting the worst. His life always seems to hit rock bottom when he thinks he’s finally climbing out of the dark & empty crevasse.

“I think it’s from the draft. The window next to your bed doesn’t close all the way.” The doctor puts the stethoscope around his neck. “I think you should try to sleep only 3 hours at a time. I’ll bring you an alarm if you need one.”

Jiyong nods, wondering where the bad news went---there wasn’t any. All he needs to do is see Seunghyun a bit less often and he’ll survive. That’s basically what it came down to, in his mind at least. What went on in the doctor’s mind, he’d rather not know. Jiyong sighs happily, lying back against the pillow he’s more than used to. 

“Oh, and I think you’ll need to start looking for somewhere else to stay. You’re pretty much healed.” The doctor smiles, clicking the top of his pen and sliding it into his pocket.

Jiyong doesn’t know how long he’s been in the hospital, but he’s certain that his family think he’s dead. He was so preoccupied with Seunghyun and those dreams, he’d forgotten to contact his parents. They’re probably worried sick.

He takes out a notepad, which he usually reserves for lyrics, and writes a  _to do_  list on it. One; call mom. Two; find a place to live. Three; find a job. Four; find Seunghyun. That’s as far as his mind lets him go, his body drifting back into a serene state filled with laughter, and most importantly, Seunghyun.

\--------------------------------------------

Seunghyun grumbles storming through the cubicles of his floor. He’s the director of sales and marketing, willing to give his assistant a generous salary, but none of the insolent employees last more than two weeks. 

He’s stuck buying his own coffee (at a local shop, now), answering his own emails, taking his own calls and messages, while the rest of the office live amicably, dealing with nothing but their own work. Any chance he gets though, he piles on work for the assistant manager. But considering he’s somewhat incompetent, Seunghyun usually ends up getting penalized by the higher bosses.

Seunghyun has no choice but to put an ad, as pathetic and vile as most are, for a personal assistant. The imbeciles in his office are too frightened to become an object of the current betting to apply for the position. Therefore he’s forced to post ads online, in community centers and anywhere else pathetic people might look. (Though he makes his incompetent assistant manager do it, of course.)

If  _she_  was still alive, he ponders, he would have begged her to work for him. 

She was an extraordinarily brilliant girl who was taken away before she could reach her full potential. And though it’s been a year since she passed on, he refuses to let her go, refuses to let another woman fill her spot. He looks at the gold framed picture of her, kissing it and sliding it back into a locked drawer.

\--------------------------------------

Jiyong feels great, almost better than before. He climbs out of bed, stretching in all directions and rushing into the bathroom—he can’t remember the last time he’s showered. Not that anyone in the hospital cares if he’s squeaky clean and dressed to impress, but now that his body is working again, and his mood picked up, he needs to look good too.

His hair is messy and flat from lying in bed, but it’s still silky. Jiyong grabs a strand, it smells like the disinfectant he has on his pillow, and that’s quite a turn off. The bags under his eyes aren’t as deep as they once were, but he’s lost some weight and his tank top is hanging off his shoulder. Jiyong still ends up smiling at his reflection in the foggy mirror.

He sniffs under his armpits and is pleasantly surprised when there’s no foul odor. But then he vaguely remembers that nagging nurse giving him a sponge bath when he was half asleep. Are they even allowed to bathe you when you’re asleep? Not that it matters, now that he can shower on his own and to his heart’s content.

He locks the bathroom door behind himself, nude in less than a minute, and jumps below the warm water. Today, he is going to find a place to live and a job; he needs to smell better than usual. (Which isn’t saying much considering where he’s been for over half a year.) He hums underneath the warmth from the shower, ignoring the nurse as she complains about him not eating his breakfast yet. He isn’t going to either. He’s going to buy something with the little money he has on him.

There’s a white towel folded neatly in a cupboard, Jiyong grabs it and dabs away the moisture, feeling like a new person. He slips on his clothes from before, drying his hair and trying to remember the number to his parents’ home. There wasn’t a need before he moved to use phones in his town; everything was within walking distance.

Jiyong unlocks the bathroom, a fog of steam following him out as he ends up face to face with the irritating (and irritable) nurse. “Hello.” He squeezes his locks with the white towel.

“Since you’re being discharged today, I thought you should know we contacted your parents.” She picks up the tray of uneaten food and sighs, before continuing. “They said they have a place for you to stay temporarily, until you find a job.” She looks him up and down, sizing him up. “You’re lucky to have such nice parents. They even paid the hospital bill.”

Jiyong gasps, putting his hand on her shoulder as a reflex, pulling it away when she looks down at it like she might bite it. “Really? I was just going to look for an apartment and a job to pay—-“ He chuckles nervously when she starts tapping her foot on the ground. “Anyways, I’ll thank them, don’t worry.” Not that he should have to explain himself to a nurse as mean as her.

It’s a new world, he’s a new man and it feels like he’s had a fresh start--finally.

\----------------------------------------

Seunghyun cancels all his meetings for the next two days, preparing himself for the many interesting, but especially tedious, interviews. His bosses agree as long as he promises his assistant will stay for more than just a few weeks. 

Seunghyun expects there will be many people applying; the reputation of the company is impeccable. But what he doesn’t expect is the amount of  _losers_  among them, who don’t even have a high school diploma or experience doing office work.

Seunghyun gets straight to the point by the time noon comes around; his stomach is aching to be filled up. “Have you graduated high school?”

“Yes.” Finally, he thinks, next question.

“Do you have experience working in offices?” He waits, his pencil in hand with the candidate’s resume on his desk.

The man chuckles a bit. “Funny you should ask. I just up and decided to change fields of work. I was a brick layer before.”

Seunghyun is intrigued, but for all the wrong reasons, he knows. How does someone earning easily 50 thousand a year, quit and decide to become an intern? There was something unrealistic about the story. “Okay well, I’ll let you know my decision later this week.” Seunghyun gets up to shake the man’s hand.

“But I didn’t even get to tell why I’d be perfect for the—“

“I’ve heard enough,” Seunghyun clenches his teeth. “Goodbye.” He slams the door in the man’s face.

They were all idiots.  _No_ , Seunghyun corrects, they were like cockroaches; multiplying and infesting his workspace, being nuisances and giving him a splitting headache. 

His only haven is with the food by his side, as he munches on warm McDonald’s fries and hums, snarling like a beast when he chomps into the burger. Lunchtime is his favorite time of day, especially since he has no one to share supper with anymore. He sips at his diet coke (pointless, he knew), reading the label about a foundation dedicated to finding organ donors. Seunghyun grumbles, pushing the drink further away, the label facing his door.

Why did she have to give herself away? Maybe he was greedy for wanting to keep all his insides _inside_ , but he felt like he wouldn’t make it to the afterlife without those parts. But then he realizes what it could mean, and he smiles. If her organs were still around, pieces of her could be too, and maybe they could meet again without him having to die.

Seunghyun chuckles a bit, dragging his drink back and sipping on it happily.

\-------------------------------------

Jiyong presses his face against the window of a shop with colorful, trendy clothes. Most of his clothes were made by his mother, not to say she wasn’t good, but it isn’t  _as_  nice. Strangers pass by, gawking and pointing at him—he can’t help standing out with his face deformed, squished against the glass. He rushes into the store, grabbing a handful of shirts and pants. Jiyong contemplates trying them on, but decides not to; he knows his size, even with the weight loss.

A few minutes later, he’s in another shop, fancier than the last. He needs proper clothes if he’s going to find a job that pays well enough to support him  _and_  his family. Jiyong buys some turtlenecks, some vests, brand name sweaters, and black dress pants (that all look the same). The boss will have to deal with his colorful running shoes; he can’t stand those god-awful loafers or the likes.

He walks down the street, whistling, his hands full of shopping bags. The address the nurse gave him is hard to read, but he finds it eventually. He lives on top of a grocery store with a pharmacy right across the street. He wonders if his parents planned it that way, or if it’s just a coincidence. He’s pleased nonetheless.

It’s already noon when he’s finish unpacking, but he needs to find a job, so meals will have to wait until he gathers some newspaper clippings. He goes into the pharmacy across the street, knowing they have a bulletin board, as well as free local newspapers. (His roommate told him so.) Jiyong browses through the store a bit, grabbing a packaged sandwich and a newspaper. 

There are some hair products on sale near the front cash register, one of which is platinum blond hair coloring. Jiyong tries to picture himself for a minute with the color, grinning when it seems to have a satisfying result. He shoves two boxes into the basket he’s holding and beams at the cashier when she scans them.

He spends the rest of the day rushing around downtown, being turned down by multiple employers. Jiyong knew it would be difficult; his only experience being that of farm work and studying. He’d never had a full-time job before and didn’t expect to need one so quick. 

Jiyong’s sweating and he remembers he has a pill to swallow to prevent his heart from acting up. Passersby whisper, maybe not particularly about him, but he takes it that way. He sticks his tongue out and rushes down the street back to his place.

Jiyong wakes up the next day, chips stuck to his face and hair disheveled and tangled. He can’t live alone for long, he knows. He’s too lazy to cook, and having chips for supper every night isn’t a good idea. Jiyong drags himself to the bathroom mirror, sliding his fingers through his hair lazily---it’s getting too long to manage. There’s scissors in the cupboard, but then there’s the hair dye from yesterday and it inspires him for  _more_.

A change would do him good. 

Jiyong snips off at least an inch of hair and slips on the plastic gloves. Goodbye brown, hello blond hair. He hums while he coats his hair in the-—toxic, but effective--product, anxious to see the result.

\----------------------------------------

Seunghyun yawns, and yawns, and yawns so much his jaw starts hurting. The candidates today are boring and predictable, even though they fit his profile. Seunghyun tries his best; cracking immature jokes, and making weird clicking sounds with his tongue to get a rise out of them---but nothing works. He wishes he could tell them to  _fuck off and grow a sense of humor_ , but he can’t. 

These aren’t people he can work with; he can’t even stand them for 10 minutes.

McDonald’s it is again. Seunghyun interviews people while chewing on his leftover fries; it wasn’t like anyone would be suitable anyways. When he’s on break, he takes out his girlfriend’s picture, running his thumb over it slowly, remembering how soft her skin was.

A whirlwind of a man knocks on his door repeatedly. Seunghyun narrows his eyes at the young man with  _blond_  hair. He doesn’t seem like someone coming for an interview, he ponders, he could be a disgruntled employee. He doesn’t act like it, though. The man’s smiling ear to ear, waving in the office.

Seunghyun finally gives up, gesturing for the enthusiastic man to come in. He enters, plopping down on the chair in an unprofessional manner. Apparently he does expect to be interviewed, Seunghyun realizes as he’s being handed the pink resume. Pink? He can hardly believe it himself..

“So,” Seunghyun clears his throat. “Kwon Jiyong, is it?”

“Yes!” Jiyong leans up in his seat, smile plastered over his face.

“Have you graduated high school?” Seunghyun fixes the dark frames on the edge of his nose.

“I have,” Jiyong rocks in his chair, impatient for the next question.

“You’ve worked in an office before?” Seunghyun’s lips curl into a smirk, the resume was cute, but it looked amateur.

Jiyong looks down, fidgets in his seat, then looks up again. “I haven’t really—“

Seunghyun snorts. “So why should I hire you?” He removes his glasses, moving his dark locks from his eyes.

Jiyong stares mouth agape; it’s Seunghyun,  _the_  Seunghyun from his dreams. He pinches himself before looking back up at the serious man. It really is him, he’s not imagining it. Jiyong sits back in his seat, straightening his posture and fixing his tie.  _It’s do or die time_ , he mumbles.

“Sir, I think I could be a good addition to your team. I’m loyal and hardworking and a fast learner—“

Seunghyun puts his hand up. “Okay, I got it.” He chuckles a bit; if nothing else, Jiyong has determination and guts. Those rainbow shoes of his didn’t get past Seunghyun unnoticed.

“I’ll give you a try.” Seunghyun rubs his temple, knowing he’ll probably regret this at a later date.

Jiyong jumps out of his seat, throwing himself at Seunghyun, but remembers it’s his boss and puts out his palm instead. “I won’t let you down!” He disappears out the way he came, smiling and waving through the glass. Seunghyun shakes his head and waves.

He remembers some details he forgot to tell Jiyong, but he figures he can contact him later if need be. He has the kid’s phone number on this--interesting--resume. Seunghyun snorts,  _cute kid_ , he slips his fingers through his hair. Reminds him of someone. He wonders who for a short while, but gives up when it doesn’t come to mind.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Jiyong dreams of Seunghyun again that night. 

And as much as he sees his own hands touching him, his lips kissing him, his eyes watching, studying--that voice isn’t his. Seunghyun pushes Jiyong down, running his fingers through the long black hair and whispering about how beautiful he is. Jiyong frowns; he’s never had hair like that. The hands aren’t his own, either, they’re more fragile and slender. And it hits him hard when the female voice moans when Seunghyun kisses him passionately. Seunghyun was with a woman the whole time.

But why could Jiyong see it? Why was it he could live through the woman, but couldn’t control her? The longer he watches Seunghyun smiling and embracing him, the less he thinks it’s actually for him. It feels like he’s sharing Seunghyun with someone, sharing their thoughts and dreams.

Jiyong wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s darker than ever outside, too early for him to prepare for work. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the reason behind his eyes being swollen and dampened by tears is all too clear. If Seunghyun only likes women, specifically that one who he sees through in his dreams, he has no chance of being with him.

Jiyong shakes his head in attempt to throw the thoughts away. He’s not supposed to like a man, nor dream about him. The desire is only building up every night and he wishes it would just stop tormenting him. The worst part being that he now works for him.

He sighs and looks over at the answering machine; there’s a message (since the red light is blinking). Jiyong isn’t sure if it’s for him or his roommate, but he checks it anyway. Who would be calling at 5 in the morning? Even when he was back home doing farm work, he only woke up around 6am.

Jiyong picks up the receiver and listens.

 _Kwon Jiyong-shii, this is your boss Choi Seunghyun.  
I forgot to let you know that I need my coffee at 8 am sharp every morning. It’s that shop near the park with the fountain in the middle. If you don’t know, ask around---locals will know._

 _See you at 8 am._

Apparently his boss couldn’t sleep much either. 

Jiyong smiles against the receiver, playing the message a few more times. Though the structure itself is cold and professional, Seunghyun’s tone is kind and warm. Or at least Jiyong thinks so. He finally erases the message and lies back in bed, clutching onto the pink blanket his roommate lent him. Jiyong can’t sleep, can’t think of anything except how nice it was hearing his boss’ voice in real life.

Jiyong sits up in bed. Even if Seunghyun is seeing a woman, Jiyong could try to prove his worth and become close with him. Not in a home wrecker kind of way, he decides, in a friendly manner. And if unexpected things happen, he would let them. 

Jiyong is smiling ear to ear, twirling in his blanket. No one else makes him feel this giddy, though he was never  _giddy_  in his life before. And blond hair would have never been an option either, before his surgery. He shrugs, going back to sleep for the hour that’s left.

\-----------------------------------------

It’s 7.55 am and Jiyong is nowhere in sight. Seunghyun grumbles, knowing he would regret hiring a kid with no office experience. He contemplates a fitting punishment; stapling duties, faxing out notes to their 1000 new clients, maybe calling the past employees and asking why they quit for 'statistical' purposes. 

Jiyong rushes in through Seunghyun’s door, five cups of coffee in his grasp. “I’m sorry.” He pants, his chest heaving (which he knows is dangerous), as he places the cups on the large desk. Jiyong finally catches his breath. “I wasn’t sure which shop you were talking about.”

Seunghyun smirks looking at the names on the cups; five different coffee shops, one of which is the right one. He has an idea suddenly. “You’re late by one minute, but I’ll make a deal with you.” He leans over his desk, closer to Jiyong. “If you can guess which one is the right one, I won’t give you the stack of work I was planning to.”

Jiyong whines a bit, catching himself when he realizes how childish it sounds. He looks at each label, trying to pick according to which seems more distinguished. But he’s from the countryside; he doesn’t know what businessmen like Seunghyun look for in coffee (or people). He sighs, closing his eyes, sticking his arm out in front of him and pointing to one after spinning around a few times. “That one!”

Seunghyun smiles, clapping his hands softly and sending the young man out. “I’ll call you when I have something.” He leans into his chair, taken aback when he remembers who used to do silly things like that--- _her_. 

He smirks, opening his email inbox, certain it’ll be a suitable task for Jiyong.  _You have 356 new emails._  He mumbles about how most are probably spammers anyway, but waves for Jiyong---who was hanging his jacket up---to come back in.

“Yes, sir?” Jiyong plops into the chair in front of Seunghyun’s desk.

Seunghyun takes off his glasses and folds them up; they're his reading glasses. “I need you to go through my emails.” He points toward a smaller desk with a flat screen on it. “That’s where you can work. I need you in my office in case I have certain things to specify.”

Jiyong smiles, nodding enthusiastically, rushing out to unhook his jacket and bring it in with him. He drops his jacket on the back of his seat and lets himself fall onto the wooden chair, wincing in pain when it’s not as comfortable as he expects it to be. Jiyong inhales noisily--catching Seunghyun’s attention--trying to figure out how this computer works.

He knows how to use his old, crappy computer at home, but this machine was hi-tech and complicated, and Jiyong never used to go on the Internet. He sighs, hiding behind the screen so his boss won’t see that he’s completely clueless as to how one gets to an inbox.

“You realize I didn’t even give you my email address and password yet,” Seunghyun’s lips curl upward as he walks toward the troubled younger man.

Jiyong laughs, as a defense mechanism, looking away when Seunghyun writes the information on a post it. He sticks it to the bottom of the flat screen, pointing at one of the icons on the screen. “Use that instead of Internet explorer.”

Jiyong nods, unfamiliar with either of those names, but clicks on it with his mouse. “And then?” He doesn’t mean to sound  _so_  pathetic, but he really has no idea where he’s supposed to go from there. It just looks like a bunch of new things for him to explore, and he doesn’t want to spend an hour on something that takes a second.

Seunghyun raises a brow. “Haven’t you ever surfed the web? I use fastmail, there’s less spam.” But from the blank expression on Jiyong’s face, he’s almost convinced he’s speaking Chinese. He sighs, taking another post it and writing what he has to do step-by-step. (At least those boring people he'd interviewed could use a computer.)

“Here,” Seunghyun sticks the notes about the task at hand next to Jiyong’s mouse, his hand brushing against Jiyong’s (don’t moan, he tells himself, don’t moan). “This should help you out.”

Jiyong lowers his head in respect. “I’m sorry I’m so much trouble. I’ll work hard to catch up.” He poses with a thumb up, his smile almost blinding. 

Seunghyun wants to be irritated, wants to snap at the blond man, but can’t and drags himself back to his desk instead. His head is already starting to hurt, he's not sure if he’ll be able to take Jiyong for another month or so.

Jiyong clicks through the emails, happily humming a tune from his hometown. Seunghyun looks over at him, hinting for him to be quiet, but he doesn’t notice. Jiyong even starts saying the actions he’s completing aloud, completely disrupting whatever concentration Seunghyun had.

 _Delete_ ,  _Junk_ ,  _Save to folder_. Jiyong starts mumbling about how the emails are never-ending.

Seunghyun is boiling inside at this point, ready to fire Jiyong and kick him to the curve. But his bosses warned him that he would be fired if he wasn’t careful. He grinds his teeth, trying to send messages to Jiyong telepathically, his efforts proving to be most unsuccessful.

“Jiyong,” Seunghyun’s jaw is clenched so tight the words come out muffled. “Please use your inside voice.”

That wasn’t an expression they used in his town, but he figures he should shut up. (And he can’t help but wonder what Seunghyun is like in bed when he’s angry.) He sighs happily, glancing over at his boss when he’s preoccupied.

\-----------------------------------

He doesn’t how, but he’s survived a full work week with Jiyong. It’s habitual for the employees in his office to go out for drinks on Friday evenings at a local bar, but Seunghyun isn’t sure if he’s ready to invite Jiyong.

Jiyong is now able to send faxes, check emails, bring coffee on time and almost dress appropriately. (Why the pink t-shirt? Makes him look like a Korean barbie doll, without the curves.) Seunghyun clears his throat when Jiyong passes by with a pile of papers. The young man smiles, holding them close to his chest.

“Yes, sir?” Jiyong’s heart is pounding and he hopes it doesn’t mean he’s dying, or worse; in love.

“Well,” Seunghyun can’t really look that sweet, attentive stare head on; it reminds him of someone he doesn’t want to think about. “The office is—-ugh-—going to a bar for drinks--”

“I’d love to!” Jiyong cuts off his boss, already bouncing in one spot.

Seunghyun blinks, snorting at the reaction and slipping back into his serious self. “You’ll need to finish sending those first, if you want to go.”

Jiyong bows, rushing outside of the office to fax the endless pile of files. 

Seunghyun slips on his black trenchcoat, grabbing a striped scarf, looking around for Jiyong. He looks down the hall, finding the man hunched over the fax machine, pressing the buttons frantically. It’s cute, he thinks, Jiyong is actually dedicated to such a petty task.

Seunghyun walks over, slipping him the address of the bar casually, waving as he turns to leave. Jiyong giggles, feeling that they may have passed a social barrier. Now, he thinks, he  _must_  finish these faxes soon, or he’ll be missing out on the fun. 

\---------------------------------------

Two hours have passed since Seunghyun slipped Jiyong the note. He looks at the people around him; drunk, noisy, laughing rowdily and yet still uninteresting. Seunghyun sips his Vodka cranberry, wondering when Jiyong will get there. 

It surprises himself that he’s purposely waiting for Jiyong, considering every other Friday he would have been long gone. The intoxicated co-workers don’t care if their boss is drinking with them or not, they don’t seem to like him much. Seunghyun took care of that a few months ago.

“Aish,” Seunghyun slams down his drink, throwing some bills for the bartender. He wasn’t about to drown in his sorrow like every other weekend. Jiyong would be able to cheer him up. He waves at the crowd of oblivious people, heading back to the office.

Seunghyun contemplates getting off and going back down on every floor of the elevator. It’s silly, bordering on creepy, to come back to the office and check on your employee. For all he knows, Jiyong changed his mind and is on his way home. Before he knows it, he reaches the 10th floor and gets out.

Seunghyun walks through the cubicles, turning the corner to where the fax machine is. Suddenly he doesn’t feel so silly, what with Jiyong passed out on the photocopy machine. He crosses his arms, impressed by how someone can fall asleep half standing up, half leaning over. Seunghyun shakes his fist at whoever is up there listening (God?), shaking Jiyong gently.

The young man whimpers and automatically hangs onto Seunghyun’s neck, like he was waiting for him to come to the rescue. Not that it was half bad sleeping in the office; he’d done it many times before. Seunghyun—-whose neck is being used as a handle--whispers Jiyong’s name a few times, to avoid startling him. 

Jiyong murmurs and mumbles, pressing his head to Seunghyun’s chest. “I love you.”

Seunghyun gulps, watching the shorter man with widened eyes. Was this some kind of trick? It seems like Jiyong lured him there, fell asleep on purpose just to confess to his boss. He chuckles at how ridiculous it sounds. But since Jiyong isn’t waking up, he has no choice but to bring him home, just this once.

\-----------------------------

Jiyong grins in his sleep; he’s dreaming about falling asleep in Seunghyun’s arms, being carried to the handsome man’s apartment and getting to share his bed. This time there’s no girl’s voice, hands, hair---it’s all him. At some point, while they’re in bed, Jiyong vaguely recalls the smell of cherry gloss when Seunghyun presses his lips to his forehead. And it feels so warm, so real that he reaches out and finally holds onto the taller man.

There’s a dripping sound Jiyong isn’t used to, it wakes him up progressively. Did he or the roommate leave the tap running? He worries there might be something flooding so he forces his eyes open, his body stuck beneath something heavy.

Jiyong peaks through one eye, too hard for him to focus with both, poking the heavy object. It’s soft, not like a blanket or pillow though, so he still can’t make out what exactly it is. And then  _it_ moves and Jiyong is fighting to not scream bloody murder. His other eye finally cooperates and he puts the pieces together in no more than a second; it wasn’t a dream this time.

Seunghyun has his leg across Jiyong’s, his chest bare and pressed to Jiyong’s side with jogging pants hanging off his hips (at least). His hair is messy and sticking out from all sides, and when Jiyong moves to touch the stray strands he notices the bulge in his own pants and wonders how long it’s been there. (And  _oh my god this is so embarrassing if my boss sees it_.) Not that having your leg sprawled across an employee was much better

Jiyong wants to jump out of his skin and get out of this position as fast as possible because Seunghyun is humming now, and it’s vibrating against his shoulder, and it feels so nice it’s tempting him to stay and press himself closer for just a while longer. But before Jiyong has the chance to slither away--knowing he won’t let go if he doesn’t leave soon--a loud ping sound comes from another room. The dripping sounds have stopped as well.

Seunghyun leans up, wiping his mouth and crawling from bed with his hands out to avoid any collisions with sharp counters and edges. Jiyong smiles; turning into  _goo_  faster than he can make his limbs work due to how adorable Seunghyun is in the morning. (Why is he sleeping in his boss’ apartment in the first place?)

There’s a brief instant where Jiyong knows Seunghyun forgot about him, because he sees him, when he leans over on the bed, and he only has one cup of coffee in his hand. Then Seunghyun looks like he’s coming back, so Jiyong feigns sleep in order to keep things from being more awkward.

Seunghyun leans against the frame of his door, a smile creeping onto his face like a disease. Jiyong’s eyes are shut tight, but not enough to miss out on his boss’ actions. Seunghyun brings a second cup from the kitchen, putting it on the nightstand next to Jiyong, running his fingers through the blond hair. 

He frowns, pulling his hand away and shaking his head.  _What’s wrong with me? I don’t like men._ Jiyong wants to chuckle and answer that he doesn’t either, but it would startle Seunghyun so he settles for yawning. Seunghyun hears the small noise and scurries into the kitchen (to hide?).

Jiyong sits up and looks around (properly this time); what he thought was a kitchen is actually only a dining room and it’s the length of two rooms. The bed he’s sleeping in is a king-size and, despite that, the dent in the bend is completely on Jiyong’s side. Then there's the nightstand; the coffee mug Seunghyun left for Jiyong is white with pink bunnies on it.

Seunghyun takes out a newspaper that’s easily a few days old and starts re-reading it to prevent from looking like some psychotic kidnapper-stalker-lurker. He still couldn’t figure out why he’d kissed Jiyong on the forehead. It was unethical, wrong, at very least it was uncalled for. 

Jiyong has the cup pressed to his lips when he sits across from Seunghyun. The older man scratches the top of his head, trying to organize his messy coif, but gives up when he looks over at Jiyong and he matches. Seunghyun clears his throat, folding the paper twice, putting it beside his cup and taking a sip.

“So,” Jiyong feels the skin of his cheeks flush, and he wishes he could just dig a hole and die in it. “Is this---my fault?”

Seunghyun hides behind his dark bangs, placing his cup back on the table. Jiyong notices that his mug is black with white bunnies on it. He clears his throat again. “Not really.” But he doesn’t say anything else.

“Was I drunk or something?” Jiyong honestly can’t remember a thing from the previous night.

Seunghyun contemplates telling him the truth for a moment, but refrains, knowing it sounds less creepy to bring a drunken person home. “Really drunk, so I felt bad and brought you here.” He doesn’t make eye contact; he’s never been good at lying.

Jiyong notices the avoidance and questions whether it's factual or not. Either way, the result was the same; he shared a bed with his boss and it’s now Saturday and he’s still in his home. The last part being especially uncomfortable, since Seunghyun is quiet and cold---almost like he’s guilty of something.

Jiyong gasps (internally), wondering if they had sex, but he doesn’t even know how two men would have sex because he’s not even been with a woman yet. “Did we---you know---“

“No! No, of course not. We wouldn't, ever.” Seunghyun sips his coffee again; it tastes like shit compared to the good stuff Jiyong brings him every morning, which gives him an idea. “Want to go get breakfast?” 

Jiyong is in awe that what came out of Seunghyun's mouth next wasn't  _get out and drink less_  and promptly pushing him out the door. This is a pleasant surprise, to say the least. He’s smiling ear to ear again and Seunghyun can’t help but smile in return.

Jiyong is forced to wear his work clothes, which clashes with Seunghyun’s casual attire. It’s weird to be dressed better than your boss, he thinks, but Seunghyun is more than just a boss to him. Jiyong and Seunghyun discuss the usual stuff; the weather, news, the economy, celebrities, while crunching on croissants and sipping on hot chocolate. 

Seunghyun’s hair dips into his warm drink and he bites his lip to keep from cursing. Jiyong smiles, dabbing off the sweet beverage and sliding a hair pin in the dark locks. “That should hold.” Jiyong is almost afraid of the look he gets, a mixture of confusion, irritation, and gratefulness.

 _She_  would always carry pins with her--just to keep Seunghyun’s hair out of the way--and as much as it bothered him, he appreciated it. But for Jiyong to be the same way, kind of threw him off; he has so much in common with her, it’s eerie.

Jiyong finishes and bows to Seunghyun, excusing himself for his bad behavior. Seunghyun smiles and bows as well, wishing Jiyong a good weekend. They part ways with lingering questions and emotion in their minds.

\-------------------------------

Jiyong works silently for the next few weeks; always on time with Seunghyun’s coffee, always completing his tasks, meeting all deadlines and keeping the emails and messages organized. Seunghyun is impressed by how quickly he’s picked it all up, wondering if he should offer him a raise. Even the bosses on the floors above seem pleased with how efficient the office has become.

Seunghyun slides his chair back, walking toward Jiyong calmly not to disturb his work. “I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you.” 

Jiyong looks up, eyes fully focused on Seunghyun (as always), waiting for the rest of what he wants to say. “Yes, sir?”

“How ‘bout--” Seunghyun smiles warmly. “--a raise?”

Jiyong is happy with his current salary, being able to send almost half to his parents every week. But getting a raise would mean he could live alone, maybe even invite friends over (or Seunghyun). 

Although he wants to accept, a boss above Seunghyun offered for him to work at a higher level in a different branch. He’s torn between happiness with Seunghyun and happiness in life; which seems more obtainable at the moment.

Jiyong decides to tell Seunghyun he’d like the raise, but the big boss interrupts their conversation when he comes into the office. “Did he tell you Seunghyun? We offered him an assistant manager position in our other branch.” 

Seunghyun can’t hide the disappointment from people like Jiyong who see him every day, but his boss is completely oblivious to it. Jiyong gets up to cut in and turn down the offer, but the boss continues. “We should celebrate tonight. It’s Friday right?”

Seunghyun nods, heading back to his desk to continue working. Jiyong doesn’t know how to tell him  _I want to stay, but I think I would end up with a broken heart_ , so he says nothing. It’s silent for the rest of the day.

As they’re tidying up their desks and shutting down their computers, they still don’t speak a word and the tension between them grows. Seunghyun leaves first, storming out and ignores Jiyong who’s waving for him to wait so they can go together. But Seunghyun isn’t going there at all. 

\---------------------------------------

Jiyong is surrounded by the same loud, rowdy, drunk people Seunghyun has seen time and time again, and now he understands why he became so bitter; they don’t care about anything as long as the alcohol is good. Seunghyun’s boss praises Jiyong about how comprehensive his work is, and why he hadn’t thought of transferring him sooner. The man keeps talking, but Jiyong isn’t really listening, even when his mouth is almost pressed to Jiyong’s ear.

All he can think about is Seunghyun who isn’t there, who’s clearly upset about the whole situation, but too stubborn to admit it. Jiyong doesn’t know why he has to feel guilty about his boss sulking; they were in no way dating, he made that absolutely clear weeks ago. Logically, he knew he owed him nothing, but his heart was telling him otherwise.

When lips linger near his ear too long, Jiyong jumps from his seat, his arms in front of him. Seunghyun’s boss is coming on to him and he doesn’t know how to stop it, because he knows the man is really drunk and possibly dangerous.

“S-sir, what you're doing is wrong.” Jiyong is scared of the darkness in the man’s eyes.

“No, Jiyong, this is exactly right.” He grabs hold of Jiyong’s wrists, pulling him in for a mess of a kiss, his breath laced with the smell of alcohol and cigars. “You’re such a pretty boy.” The man is unstable when he leans in, giving Jiyong a chance to shove him and run out of the bar.

If the transfer is only for that disgusting pig to hit on him and shove his tongue in his mouth, he’d rather try his chances with Seunghyun and keep living with his roommate. Jiyong growls when he's outside; it’s colder than usual and he left his jacket inside with the old pervert. He isn’t about to go back in either.

Seunghyun is crossing the street when Jiyong notices him. Was he waiting outside of the bar the whole time? Jiyong shouts as loud as he can, waving frantically to get his attention. Seunghyun mouths the word  _fuck_  and starts running down the street in the opposite direction. Jiyong yells as he begins to chase after him. 

One block, two blocks, three and Seunghyun is still zigzagging through pedestrians and traffic. Jiyong holds onto his chest, forgetting about what the doctors told him; no stressful or strenuous activities---and this was both. All he can think about is, if he dies, he wants to spend half the time haunting that old man, and the other half haunting Seunghyun. 

He’s leaning over, his back hunched, his chest heaving, and he can’t seem to catch his breath. Everything is spinning, swirling, the faces in the crowd distorting as he falls over. Seunghyun stops running, wondering why the angry shouting and profanity have stopped, only to see Jiyong lying down on the ground, unmoving.

He runs to the smaller man’s side as an ambulance parks nearby. They push Seunghyun aside and he argues that he needs to come with. They refuse until he lies and says he’s Jiyong’s older brother.

\---------------------------------------

Jiyong’s dream is filled with red. There’s a flash of Seunghyun, when the usual woman picks up her cellphone to text him while she’s driving. She’s looking down so she doesn’t see when a car goes through a red light on the right side of her, causing a major collision. The rest is a blur of screams from outside the car as the woman crashes through the window and lands in the street.

There’s blood everywhere and he wishes he could make it stop because his heart is aching for her. If she’s the one Seunghyun loves, why is he living through her in his dreams? He still can’t understand completely. 

Seunghyun is asleep next to Jiyong, clutching onto his hand. As much as he can’t admit that he has feelings for him, he won’t let him slip away like what happened to  _her_. Jiyong whimpers in his sleep, the dreams darker than ever.

The doctor, who had spoken to both Seunghyun and Jiyong on that memorable day, walks into the hospital room with a clipboard in hand. He creases his brow, thinking this to be quite the coincidence, but doesn’t bother to mention it when they wake up.

“Hello,” The doctor smiles, waving to them.

Jiyong and Seunghyun say  _It’s you_  in perfect unison. They look at each other, question marks in their eyes that the doctor can see from across the room. “Maybe I should come back later.”

The doctor quickly shuffles out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

“How are you feeling?” Seunghyun lets go of the hand he was squeezing.

Jiyong frowns, crossing his arms. “This is your fault.”

“My fault,” Seunghyun clenches his teeth, something he's done so often with Jiyong, but stops when he realizes that Jiyong is still a bit shaken. “How is it my fault?”

“If you had come to the bar, I wouldn’t have had your boss’ tongue in my mouth and I wouldn’t have chased you down the street--“

Seunghyun puts his hand up, trying to process the information. “Wait, so my boss kissed you?” And his skin is reddening with each word he pronounces.

Jiyong nods, feeling tears pull at the corner of his eyes. “It was disgusting, I couldn’t get him off.”

Seunghyun growls and considers storming out and beating the living daylights out of his boss, but looks over at Jiyong---whose eyes are red and watery---he's the priority for the time being. “I’ll show him a piece of my mind.” He grumbles, sitting back in the hospital chair.

“That’s not the point,” Jiyong wipes his eyes. “Why did you run away when I called for you?” He starts rambling on about having a heart that he’s not used to and how maybe he’s in love with Seunghyun, but he keeps dreaming about this girl who he’s in love with---

But Seunghyun only catches the part he least expects. “So wait, you’re  _in love_  with me?”

Jiyong whines and pulls a pillow over his head. If he could be a groundhog right now, life would be too good. There’s a muffled sound from underneath the pillow and Seunghyun figures it's a _yes_.

“Are you sure?” Seunghyun doesn’t know why he’s asking that question himself, but it’s all he can think of because he’s ecstatic and he doesn’t want to show it.

Jiyong throws the pillow he was hiding under at Seunghyun, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? I know you don’t like guys--“

But Seunghyun is already leaning over Jiyong, his lips pressed against the younger man’s. It’s a new experience for them both, but they can’t say they hate it in the slightest. The doctor knocks on the door, smiling politely, clipboard in front of his eyes. “Is it safe?”

Jiyong is beaming when the doctor finally steps into the room, excited and nervous at the same time. Even if the doctor tells him he’s dying, this would still be the best day of his life.

Thankfully the doctor only tells Jiyong to take some time off, preferably with someone to look after him. He suggests Jiyong return to his hometown for a week and visit his family, but Seunghyun narrows his eyes at the proposal. “I’m his boss; I will take care of my sick employee.”

The doctor chuckles a bit and waves them off when Seunghyun has Jiyong safely under his wing.

\------------------------------------------

“A week, did you hear?” Jiyong says from the comfort of Seunghyun’s bed. “What will you do about work?”

Seunghyun shrugs. “I can take a vacation, or maybe quit and start my own business.” He climbs in bed with Jiyong, pulling the younger man into his body. “I’m sick of the people there anyways. The only good thing is you.”

Jiyong blushes, hiding in Seunghyun’s chest. He wants to run around the house flailing and strip and please Seunghyun in all the ways he can think of, even though he’s never been with a man, but he knows his heart wouldn't survive. 

Seunghyun pets Jiyong’s hair, looking into those innocent eyes that mean so much to him now. “I never thought I’d be with a man.” Jiyong can tell he’s embarrassed, even through all the hair covering his face.

“Does that mean you love me too?” Jiyong bats his eyelashes, acting extra cute to force Seunghyun into answering. His fingers intertwine with Seunghyun’s.

Seunghyun rolls his eyes. “Do I have to answer? Don’t you already know? You’re in my bed, aren’t you?” But all Jiyong can see in Seunghyun’s stare is hearts and stars. He was clearly in love, even if his mouth said otherwise.

Jiyong purses his lips, pretending to be upset. “But I told you.” 

Seunghyun huffs, pulling Jiyong in for their  _second_  kiss. (He was indeed keeping track.) Every detail was meaningful to him. He counts the seconds before Jiyong needs to pull away for air, the way his eyes open slowly, almost like he’s dazed from the kiss, the way his lips curl afterward as if asking for another, and Seunghyun is happy to oblige. 

It’s true  _she_  was his first happiness, but Jiyong is the only happiness that can make letting go of her bearable. For that, Jiyong is his sunshine, his reason to wake up in the morning when the world seems to be cloaked in darkness.

When he snaps out his dream world, Jiyong is waiting with his eyes closed and lips puckered.  _This kid_ , he chuckles, is going to be the end of him with his cuteness. “I have a better idea,” Seunghyun slips under the blanket, pulling down Jiyong’s stretch pants.

“Wh-what are you doing? The doctor said I need to rest!” Jiyong wiggles his legs, covering his dormant member with his hands. 

Seunghyun pulls the hands away, one finger at a time to further tease Jiyong. “I’m just giving you a little present. I hope I can do it right.”

Jiyong whines, wiggling his hips so Seunghyun can’t get a firm grip. “But I’m not prepared, it’s a mess down there---“

Seunghyun climbs out of the blanket, kissing Jiyong gently, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s just hair. And maybe sexual activity will heal you faster.” 

They both know it’s impossible, but Jiyong can’t protest anymore when kisses are being pressed along the shaft of his cock. “Seunghyun,” He breathes, his hands tangling in the older man’s hair. 

Seunghyun’s voice is muffled by the blanket, but Jiyong can hear his snarky remarks all the same. “I’ll go really slowly so your heart doesn’t burst out of your chest.” And Jiyong wishes the deep laughter that follows wasn’t sexy, because he feels himself getting hard and nothing has happened yet.

“I guess you really do like me,” Seunghyun smirks, his tongue trailing over the underside of Jiyong’s cock, hands keeping Jiyong from moving his hips away (or escaping). Jiyong moans, glad he can’t see Seunghyun; he might pass out from the expression on his face alone.

“I love you,” Jiyong forces out after a grunt caused by Seunghyun’s mouth sucking over the tip of his cock. “It’s different.”

Seunghyun is amused by how vocal and talkative Jiyong is, despite being sucked so hard the skin of his knuckles is white from squeezing onto the bed sheet. He’s not sure if he’s doing it right, but he knows he means well and that has to count for something. He swirls his tongue over the tip, tasting something salty that encourages him to slide the shaft into his mouth. 

It tastes better than he expects--which is good news for Jiyong who can hardly keep his eyes open--as he hums against the hard cock, savoring the taste of Jiyong’s length. Jiyong wants to stop Seunghyun, wants to uncoil his digits and fist them in Seunghyun’s hair and kiss him so hard they’re both left breathless, but all he can do is arch up against the warmth of Seunghyun’s lips. (And he swears that it doesn’t feel like a first-timer, though he’s never had a blowjob before.)

He’s seeing white flashes by the time his fingers begin to cooperate and all he manages is a strangled cry as he climaxes into Seunghyun’s mouth. The older man crawls up Jiyong’s body, his fingers tickling over hypersensitive skin, making waves of shivers stream through him. “It’s not half bad,” Seunghyun licks his lips.

Jiyong kisses him, tasting everything Seunghyun has, moaning because those stubborn fingers won’t let his cock rest for a second. He decides---since he’s getting hard again---once his body is willing to work, he’s going to repay the favor  _many_ , many times.

\-------------------------A day later---------------------------------

Seunghyun goes back to the office, for the last time he notes, packing all his things into a box that Jiyong decorated with hearts and kisses. (And it was actual kisses, from actual lipstick; Seunghyun had seen Jiyong dress his lips with the expensive tube.)

His boss comes in, putting a hand on Seunghyun’s shoulder. Seunghyun looks at the hand, then the man, then back at the hand and pushes it off carelessly. Those filthy hands grabbed onto Jiyong, kissed him, wanted to use him for personal gain rather than the talent he actually possessed. 

“You know what sir,” Seunghyun drops the box on his desk loudly, making sure that everyone else in the office can hear because his door is wide open. “Go fuck yourself. Who are you to hit on young boys from the office and then pretend like you’re innocent?”

There are giggles in each corner of the office as Seunghyun storms out. He turns on his heels, not to continue his rant, but to take two precious things from the locked drawer. Seunghyun kisses the framed picture of her, fingers running over her blond streaks. She can be Jiyong’s guardian angel, too. 

He grabs the second item, a small velvet box, cracking it open and smiling. Though he never had a chance to give it to her that night, he’s pretty sure Jiyong is the same size. And he knows—- _knew_ -—her well enough to know that she wouldn’t mind if it’s what his heart feels. He slides it into his pocket for later use, walking out with all of his dignity.

\---------------------------Epilogue

When Jiyong dreams that night, he's certain there's no one else being embraced by Seunghyun. He knows it because he can see his reflection in the car window that they fogged up. Seunghyun mouthes Jiyong's name and he feels his body ache with desire and love. If this is what she felt when alive, there was no wonder she couldn't let go. Seunghyun is a generous and loyal lover. 

Seunghyun slips something shiny on Jiyong's finger and he can hear a woman's voice whispering for him to keep it on. It's that woman he saw on the picture, she's smiling and waving to Jiyong as she fades into a bright light up ahead.

Jiyong awakes moments later with Seunghyun pressed against his side, as usual. It's so ordinary to him that he can't sleep if they aren't in that position. He rolls over on his side to get comfortable and notices a dark box on the nightstand with his name on it. Without opening it, he knows there's a ring inside.

He can wait until morning to wake up his lover. Time was finally on his side.

  
//The End//

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